it was that he had got the drink. He must have had a bottle of
whisky in his room; she remembered his shyness when he said good-night
to her.

He stood in the middle of the floor, swaying on his feet and smiling at
her. The flame of the light rose and fell in jerks and spasms.

"I thought," he said, "I'd come--to see m'little Maggie, m'little
niece, jus' to talk a lill bit and cheer her up--up." He drew nearer
the bed. "She'll be lonely, I said--lonely--very--aren't you--lonely
Maggie?"

"It's very late," she said, "and you're dropping grease ail over the
floor with that candle. You go back to bed, uncle. I'm all right. You
go back to bed."

"Go back? No, no, no. Oh no, not back to bed. It'll soon be mornin'.
That'll be jolly-jolly. We'll talk--together till mornin'."

He put the candle on a chair, nearly falling as he did so, then came
towards her. He stood over her, his shirt, open at the neck,
protuberating over his stomach, his short thick legs swaying. His red,
unshaven face with the trembling lips was hateful to her.

Suddenly he sat on the edge of her bed and put his hands out towards
her. He caught her hair.

"My little Maggie--my little Maggie," he said.

The fright, the terror, the panic that seized her was like the sudden
rising of some black figure who grew before her, bent towards her and
with cold hard fingers squeezed her throat. For an instant she was
helpless, quivering, weak in every bone of her body.

Then some one said to her:

"But you can manage this."

"I can manage this," she answered almost aloud.

"You're alone now. You mustn't let things be too much for you."

She jumped out of bed, on the farther side away from her uncle. She put
on her dressing-gown. She stood and pointed at the door.

"Now, uncle, you go back to your room at once. It's disgraceful coming
in the middle of the night and disturbing every one. Go back to bed."

The new tone in her voice startled him. He looked at her in a
bewildered fashion. He got up from the bed.

"Why, Maggie--I only--only--"

He stared from her to the candle and from the candle back to her again.

"Now go," she repeated. "Quick now."

He hung his head. "Now you're angry--angry with your poor ole
uncle--poor ole uncle." He looked at her, his eyes puzzled as though he
had never seen her before.

"You're very hard," he said, shaking his head. He stumbled towards the
door--"Very hard," he repeated, and went out, his head still hanging.